A little story, maybe a little hope.
Hi. I’m sorry for my English. I’ll try to make myself understandable. The reason that I’ve came back here to write this is that I’m feeling well. And I want to share this here.
Since my youth, since I had 8 or 9 years, I have suicide thoughts. Jumping was always my “favoriteâ€. Like the way it looks, flying for freedom, forever freedom. I’m, obviously, an atheist. Don’t believe in anything that will punish or save me. I’m all by myself, I was born naked and lonely, and I live and always will live naked and lonely, despite of the clothes I wear. That’s how I am.
For a few years now, I started to notice that the thoughts of “I don’t want to live anymore†had an important emotional background. Since my late teenage years I live with the seemed real idea that no matter what I try, what I do, life has no meaning or purpose at all. That recurrent thought was somehow based on the strong feeling of not feeling. Couldn’t believe, try, invest, persist in anything for too long. No project or work would survive the second apathy crisis. Sometimes, one was enough.
Sadness wasn’t my problem. I have what I call a secondary sadness. I get sad to be apathetic (apatico in Portuguese) again. Again and again. For no reason, real or imaginary. Often I just woke and nothing made no sense. Why to leave bead, study, work, try. Sleep is better. Until one month ago I was sleeping until 2h, 3h PM.
Even though I was medicated, for since 2010 I was taking Venlafaxine Hydrochloride, first 75mg, latter 150mg, I still had minor apathetic crisis. The medicine made them less often and less intense, but they were there, living with me like a sleeping worm in my brain. Meanwhile, I tried to live the best way I could. Tried to do things better, to feel better. Tried do have girlfriends, came back to college (I was already graduated), tried to grow in my company. Tried to do lots of things to “give me the impression that I existâ€, as brilliantly said by Samuel Beckett. So I’ve started to sing in a chorus, to act in an amateur group, among another stuff. This things were hard, honest tries to claw the thin ice. Suicide still sound as a good idea, but I was somehow controlled, due to the medicine and the idea of leaving and making suffer my mother and my younger brother.
Anyway. I wasn’t living, despite of my efforts. I was barely surviving, waiting for the day that I would die and be free of this stupid meanless life. Or secretly desiring that my dearest ones would die in a car accident so I could kill myself without guilty. At this point, I was already thinking about taking lots of benzodiazepine while my neck is inside a rope. Too much western, I think.
But one thing changed 15 days ago, and that’s what I really want to talk about. Found true love? Promoted to a better job? Became famous? Of course not. None of this hollywoodian shits. I’ve changed my medicine. Now I’m taking aglomelatine 25mg. What has changed? If my mind was already fighting for a real life, now I feel that my body is in the same war. I can wake up in the morning and think “well, I can do anything I want until I have to workâ€, and that makes sense, and that’s enough for me to wake up and do whatever I want to do. I don’t feel life is beautiful, I’m not happy all the time. I’m happy when I have reasons to be happy, same way to feel angry, sad, or anything. But now I can feel that pleasure is real, meaning is real. Cause I already knew that life could ONLY be real if it was true and honest with my desires and beliefs. But I couldn’t feel that. Know I can. And for the past 15 days, I haven’t thought about flying or hanging not even once.
So, what I want to say. If you’re reading this searching for some ideas to do it, or some minimum reason not to do it, my advice is: look for a doctor. I’m going to a psychiatrist. I’m aware that I have a mental illness. I’m not afraid or ashamed of it. I’ll do what I have to do to feel fine. Otherwise, I’ll sometime kill myself. So, if I have to take this medicine for the rest of my live, so be it. My priority number one is to feel mentally well.
If you haven’t searched for professional help yet, give it a try. Exercises, support groups, all of this is very fine, it may help. But you may feel that’s not enough. Wasn’t enough for me. I’m mentally ill, I have a disease and I need to take a medicine, don’t know for how long. Don’t give up without trying this. Maybe, all you need is something to regulate your neurotransmitters. If that’s your problem, if you’re just fucked up the same way I’m, there’s a solution. Give it a try. It’s worthy. I hope this was useful for someone.
To love yourself is the only thing that matters.
Evandro, Brazil.
2 comments
Li o teu username e fiquei desconfiada da origem…lol eu sabia.
Sim… pelo menos nossa lÃngua nos dá belas palavras para expressar nossa realidade. Abraço, Tristeza.